


That -goddamn- time in Peru

by _Lightning_ (Lightning070)



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bad Puns, Being Lost, Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Machu Picchu - Freeform, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Mystery, Nate is a brat, Nate needs a hug, Quality Time, Some Humor, Travel, What-If, Wilderness Survival, bad parenting done well, don't give Nate a map, every goddamn time, everything nate touches crumbles, just an average family trip, sully is a missed father, that time in Peru, uncharted - Freeform, with cursed artefacts and stuff, yet another destroyed lost city?, yet another lost city, young Nathan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning070/pseuds/_Lightning_
Summary: 1991, Peru. A young Nathan Drake follows his new mentor Victor "Goddamn" Sullivan on a trip on the Andes. Destination: Machu Picchu.Sully says it's just a pleasure trip, well-deserved after what happened in Cartagena. Nate doesn't believe him, not for one second.What mysteries lie in the ancient Sacred City of the Incas?
Relationships: Nathan Drake & Victor Sullivan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	That -goddamn- time in Peru

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Quella -maledetta- volta in Perù](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/675100) by _Lightning_. 



> Hey folks!  
> What started as a tiny story about "that time in Peru" mentioned in Drake's Deception ended up being a six-chapter story. Whoops.  
> Lots of Incan/Peruvian/Spanish stuff, history, culture&more here: I did my research but if anyone spots any mistakes please let me know asap. I hate inaccuracy.  
> Btw this is a translation from Italian, so keep that in mind when reading since I'm not a native speaker. Any suggestion and correction are welcome :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy Sully's breakdown in keeping a young Nate at bay...  
> Let me know if you like it!

  
“ _Goddammit_ ,” Sully breathlessly spurted out, chomping his teeth on his cigar, “ who the hell thought it a good idea– to put a _goddamn_ city on the top– of a _goddamn_ mountain– among other _goddamn_ mountains?” he puffed out, trying to catch his breath in the thin, crystal-clear air.

“Emperor Pachacuti, in the early Fifteenth Century,” Nate’s voice rose from behind him, calm although slightly strained. “And he had a great idea, considering the Conquistadores never even set their eyes upon it, don’t you think?”

Sully came to a halt on the steep, uneven stone stairs, bending over with his hands on his knees and shooting the kid the evil eye.

“Thanks for the memo, _Professor Drake_ … now, why don’t ya go ahead for a while, instead of following my trail?”

Nate put on that mischievous smirk of his as if he had been waiting just to hear those words.

“Of course… but try not to fall behind, gramps,” he taunted him, catching up with him in four, agile steps, the rucksack bouncing against his back.

“Easy to speak with a couple of coca leaves under your tongue, hm?” Sully said, frowning. Nate feigned an outraged look.

“Hey, it’s not forbidden! It’s not like this is… a _recreational drug_ , you know, that’s a _necessary_ drug to preserve my lungs! Piwi said so too! And actually, it kinda sucks,” he finished, chewing a bit on his leaves and exaggerating a disgusted grimace.

“Yeah, yeah… sure your Quechua is all _that_ good?” Sully puffed away, shaking his head, and wondering if letting a teenager consume _almost_ psychoactive substances could have been charges-worthy.

“That was Spanish,” Nate replied, rolling his eyes. “And anyway, that stinking cigar of yours is _way_ more toxic… maybe that’s the time you’ll finally quit smoking like a chimney!” he teased him again, leaning over the cliff’s edge to spit out the cud of chewed-through leaves.

For Sully’s liking, the kid stuck out just _a bit_ too far over the precarious-looking railing, dropping a good thousand feet over the tropical jungle below.

“Watch out, kiddo. I don’t wanna call Piwi back just to spoon you and your leftover leaves from the bottom of a pit.”

Nate, in response, leaned over once more, tilting his torso well past the fragile wooden boundary and shifting all his weight onto a single foot to look down the ravine.

“Nah. It’s not that high… and a lot of hand and footholds too. I’d manage just fine,” he dismissed him without the bat of an eye. Then he kept on walking at a brisk pace on the rugged road.

Sully sighed once more, more deeply. His heart pumped wildly, maybe due to an oncoming heart attack, maybe just due to the low oxygen. _Goddammit_ , he’d need a pacemaker within a year, regardless of his recent fortieth birthday. He was sure he’d already won some white hair since he took Nathan under his wing, barely six months before… and things weren’t bound to get any better. He fondled with his rucksack, feeling absent-mindedly for the inner pocket. Surely, they wouldn’t get any better in the arc of the following twenty-four hours.

He scratched his mustache and readjusted the cigar between his lips, yearning for the moment he could light it again. Then he followed the boy, who was already several steps ahead of him, never minding the roughness of the rocky ridge upon which the road flanked the mountain. Stones and steps, belonging to the ancient Incan _camino_ , beckoned from the reddish soil, worn out by centuries of walking travelers. Here and there stood more modern wooden planks, little bridges, and walkways, looking none the sturdier.

Sully shielded his eyes from the morning sun, embracing the well-known landscape, ever breathtaking, nonetheless.

The tree-lined profile of the Andes seemed about to bite the sky, just softly speckled by clouds haloing the higher peaks. The winged, majestic shapes of two condors soared through them, gliding along the updrafts. The thick jungle below shimmered like an emerald ocean, parting to the sharp and icy gusts of wind whistling across the mountain, and seeping in through their heavy, woolen clothes.

Sully glimpsed Nate shivering a bit and huddling in his newly bought poncho, which he seemed fairly proud of. Then he took off with a sprint, almost trotting along the path. Sully held back another rebuke: he knew Nate was more than capable of keeping his balance in much more dangerous situations. After all, he had the right of behaving like a kid his age and just enjoy the trip. He took up the pace, following his lead.

In the distance, beyond the cliff’s rocky outline, the Sacred Mountain of Machu Picchu rose.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note: coca leaves are not actually a drug like cocaine is - more like a very strong tea or coffee. Quechua guides do hand them to tourists to chew along the highest Incan paths in order to quench fatigue and aid breathing the rarefied air. Just to let you know Nate is NOT actually on cocaine here, just a bit over-excited and more reckless than usual.


End file.
